F@%k It Friday: Crying at Work

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PhotobucketI was about to tell you that I never cry at work — but I would be lying, yo.

The first time I remember crying at work was 1991. I was just a kid and I worked at Here’s Hollywood Video in Palatine, IL. I overheard an assistant manager call me Sinead behind my back. I later confronted the chump. He was thirty, divorced, and going places in his career.

Even then, I was assessing talent.

So I asked, “Did you call me Sinead?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Everyone calls you Sinead.”

I said, “Not to my face, they don’t.”

He said, “Of course not. But you do have a shaved head.”

He turned and walked away. Conversation was over.

  • I cried because some loser thought he could be witty and clever at my expense.
  • I cried because I thought he didn’t like me and I’ve always had a sad, pathetic desire to be liked.
  • I cried because this guy drove a busted-up Iroc-Z, for chrissake. Google it, kids. That’s a sad car — and it’s even sadder when it’s held together by bungee cords.

I also cried because that job sucked. Hard.

How about you? When was the first time you cried at work? When was the last time? Why?

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